My Little Cammie
by Torqueo Animadverto
Summary: “Okay Cammie, I’ll call you that. My Cammie, my little girl.” Cammie's brith from her father's point of view. Written for Melonme23's countdown calendar.


Disclaimer: I have the misfortune of not owning the Gallagher Girl series.

"John," Rachel's voice whispered frantically from where she was standing next to our bed, folding clothes. I was sitting at the desk typing up a rather lengthy mission report from my Ukraine operation. The mission was a very difficult one and I honestly had thought that I would not make it home. Then, my mind would flash to my beautiful wife and soon-to-be born son, and it always made me fight like never before.

"What is it Rachel? What's wrong?" I asked, my normally calm voice raising worriedly. When we went for the last check up, the OB/GYN said that there may be some complications involving the set due date. Cameron -the baby- was getting so big that he hardly had any room to move around. Rachel still had four weeks left to go, but Dr. Carmichael felt that she wouldn't get that far.

"My water just broke." She gasped as a contraction hit her full-on.

Quickly pushing away from the silver desk, I stood up and strode to where she was still standing. "Okay babe, let's get you into the car." I said, my heart pounding like a race horse in the Kentucky Derby.

Rachel nodded quickly and waddled over to the door as I ran for the closet where a Nike duffle bag was stuffed with clothes. We had been prepared for this day for a while, but considering our jobs, it was instinct to be ready.

I threw open the door to the closet and hurriedly grabbed two sets of shoes for both of us. Shoving the strap on my shoulder, I heard Rachel call, "Dear God John, hurry!"

Quickly bolting down the stairs, I saw Rachel doubled over in pain and an agonized look marring her beautiful face. It was a good thing the hospital was only ten minutes away from our tiny house. Judging by the look on her face, I didn't know if we would make it any farther.

I speedily walked Rachel to the car and buckled her in the front seat, laying the back down a few inches. I ran to my side of the car, shoved the key into the ignition, and peeled out of there like a malnourished monkey devouring a banana.

_IYLYCMHDJA_

"Come on Rachel, one more push!" I coached my pained wife as she delivered our first child. She grunted as she pushed Cameron Matthew Morgan into the world. Dr. Carmichael swiftly pulled him away, tapped him lightly on his bottom to make him cry, and said, "It's a girl." He quickly put _her_ in Rachel's arms and a maternal, glowing grin enveloped her face.

A girl.

A daughter.

The feelings I was suddenly emanating were so strange and unknown. I was a father. I had a daughter. I had a little girl.

I knew the midwife would be coming around to take her height and weight, so I looked down at her.

She was beautiful. She had a perfect heart shaped face, two almond shaped blue eyes that all infants had after birth, and a full head of shiny, light brown hair. Her pink lips formed a slowly decreasing 'o' as her cries were quieted. Her skin was a light olive color that was almost an exact replica of mine.

She wasn't striking like delegate McHenry's three-month old daughter, and she wasn't a foreign beauty like our friends from MI6's Abe and Elizabeth Baxter's daughter, Rebecca. She wasn't anything like that, but she was a subtle, natural beauty. It was so negligible that the CIA would say, "nondescript," and pass her off as a pavement artist or something like that.

Rachel squeezed my hand as the midwife came by. "We did it John." She said, her tired eyes gazing up into mine, shining with the unadulterated love that I'm sure was reflecting into mine.

"Yeah, Rachel. We did." I murmured against her forehead as I placed a single kiss against the smooth plane.

"What should her middle name be?" She whispered, tiredly closing her eyes.

"Well, Cameron is after your mom, so how about Anne after mine?" I suggested hopefully. Before we knew the gender, I really wanted Anne for a girl because that was my mother's first name. Then Rachel said Cameron after her mom, and I couldn't say no. Her mother died when she was sixteen, so I had to say yes.

"Six pounds, eight ounces and twenty inches long." The midwife came by with my daughter wrapped in a light pink blanket. "She's a bit small because you had her at thirty-six weeks instead of forty, but she's still fine." She said depositing Cameron in my wife's arms. "Let me be the first to tell you all, congratulations." She told us kindly before leaving the room.

"Cameron Anne Morgan. Little Cam." Rachel murmured losing energy fast.

I knew it would be at least five minutes until I could hold her, so I told Rachel, "I'm going to make a couple of phone calls." I gave her lingering kiss on the forehead and Cameron a light kiss on the top of her head.

Walking out to the hallway, I pulled out my cell, not really caring about any of the rules. I had two people to call: Joe Solomon and Chris Goode.

"Hey, Joe." I said right after he said, 'hello.'

"Hey, John. What's up?" He asked.

"Rachel went into early labor. We're at the hospital right now." I replied happily.

"Oh my God man, are Rachel and Cameron okay?" He asked nervously. Rachel was as much his friend as he was mine.

"They're both fine. Cameron Anne, six pounds, eight ounces, and twenty inches long. And a _girl. _Get your ass over here man." I ordered before ending the call. I knew he would be here as soon as possible. I'd give him twenty minutes top.

"Chris, man, where are you?" I asked him in a pseudo-demanding voice.

"I'm at the hospital. Janelle went into labor. I saw you and Rachel go into one of the rooms; congrats, man. It looks as if we'll have two Blackthorne boys on our hands." Chris rambled in one breath, referring to the spy school for boys in upstate Maine.

"That's what you think. One Blackthorne boy and one Gallagher Girl." I told him and heard a slight gasp of surprise on the other end of the phone.

"A girl?" He asked slightly dumbfounded.

"That's right man, a girl. She's amazing. Cameron Anne, six pounds, eight ounces and twenty inches long. God, is it possible to love something so much?" I asked him, hoping that he would provide some insight into these eccentric feelings.

"I don't know, but I feel the same with Zach. He was eight pounds, four ounces, and twenty-one inches long. I love every bit of him. It kind of like you would do anything and everything for them; you want to protect them from all the evils in life and would rip the throats out of anyone who hurts them. Even if it's you." Chris said voicing my own feelings.

I looked back at Rachel and Cameron, seeing my two favorite girls. Rachel's weary eyes met mine and I knew that it was my turn. "You're telling me man. I have to go, Rachel needs me. Oh, but one more thing."

"What's up?"

"Keep your son away from my daughter." I almost growled. I could already sense the protective dad instincts flaring up.

Chris chuckled. "No promises man."

"Later." I said as a nurse glared at me. It was only a five minute conversation, gosh.

"You tired Rach?" I asked her knowingly. I had never given birth before, but from the looks of it, it seemed a little draining.

Rachel nodded and placed Cameron in my arms. She lay back against the plastic hospital pillow and before long, I heard her breathing even out as she made the trip to dreamland.

"Hi little Cammie." She stared up at me with wide, unblinking eyes, and the tips of her mouth moved slightly. "Do you like that nickname, Cammie?"

She blinked her eyes slowly as if in response and a grin lit up across my face.

"Okay Cammie, I'll call you that. My Cammie, my little girl." I cooed softly to her even though she was beginning to fall asleep. I stared down at her with undiluted love as a song started playing in my head.

_You're the treasure I cherish, so sparkling and bright_

_You were touched by the holy and beautiful light_

_Like angles that sing, a heavenly thing_

_And your daddy's little girl. _

"My little girl. My little Cammie."


End file.
